Jeanette Redux
by gravewriter71
Summary: Inspired by the "Gadget & the Gadgetinis" episode "The General's Daughter." What if Jeanette had wanted to pursue a relationship with Gadget following the Disarmament Ball? A bit of silly shippy fic. WARNING: rated M for adult situations!


Although he personified the very latest in cybernetic technology, there were things which Lieutenant Gadget didn't mind being old-school... _And this photo, _he thought, _is very old-school. Wowsers! _He sat on the padded table in the W.O.M.P. tech lab, alone, gazing dreamily at the picture in his hand. A lovely young lady with auburn hair, striking green eyes, and cafe-au-lait complexion posed in the photograph like the Bomber Bettys of World War II, her pleated skirt showing off her curvy hips, her tight blouse proudly displaying quite a bit of her generous cleavage. She had one leg up on the turret of a tank, and Gadget admired for the thousand-and-twelfth time the shapely calf revealed. Jeanette Sir had taken the photo in the new Peace Arsenal, shortly after the Disarmament Ball hosted by W.O.M.P. a month ago; that ball had been his first meeting with General Sir's lovely "baby girl." _But thankfully not the last!_

Gadget smiled dreamily, thinking of the successive times he'd "escorted" Miss Jeanette since then. He'd been utterly smitten with the flirtatious young lady, but he'd been smart enough not to make any advances; after all, this was his boss's daughter! _Well, not just MY boss, either – the head of W.O.M.P! I doubt he'd want her to mingle with the staff. _He'd always basked in the favor of General Sir's esteem, but he wasn't sure whether his boss' opinion had changed since Jeanette had bestowed her own favors upon him, the day after the ball. When he'd calmed down enough to be aware of anything besides his own frantically pounding heart, he'd noticed a distinct formality in General Sir's posture as he thanked Gadget again for his part in stopping M.A.D. and showed him to the door. _Well, you DID let her kiss you right in front of him!_ Not that he would've stopped her, oh, no, not for the world! He'd thought then that his chances of ever seeing Jeanette again were slim, but to his surprise, she'd sent him a note the next week asking if he could possibly escort her to "a very boring luncheon with some officers and their wives" aboard a carrier docked in San Diego.

He barely recalled what they'd been served, or the names of anyone he'd been introduced to. The memory of the Navy chef nearly bouncing on his toes in rage in a pile of fish heads was a little clearer. _Strange...I'd have thought he'd have welcomed the chance to show off his skills in making a fantastic bouillabaisse! Ah, well, they say those Navy guys are a little more temperamental... _The one thing still _very_ clear in his mind about that day was the impromptu water-skiing he'd done off the back of some sort of fish...some sort of very _large_ fish with a stuck-up fin and quite a lot of teeth when it smiled _(Those dolphins. Such playful creatures!)_...and the kiss Jeanette had awarded him when he'd triumphantly hauled up a deep-sea treasure just for her. He still didn't quite understand the whole stir about a docking anchor, or why all those sailors had been yelling and running around, or why the ship had left so soon, with most of the guests still aboard; no one had mentioned anything about a cruise to him. But the kiss, oh, that kiss! Her previous demonstrations of affection had been fairly chaste ones upon his cheek. That day, standing on the docks while frantic sailors ignored them in their haste to do ship-related things, Jeanette had giggled, and melted into his arms, and when he'd blushed and turned his head, she'd taken his strong chin in one delicate hand and turned his face _toward_ hers so that her lips – her _lips!_

He felt a surge of heat at the memory of it. Her lips were so _soft_ on his... "Cherry lipstick," he murmured, sighing happily. But that hadn't been the end of it. He'd had to leave on a mission, off to a tropical island to participate in a silly game show to help W.O.M.P.'s budget woes by winning ten million dollars. Though he'd enjoyed the challenge (it was always nice to do something which _didn't_ involve Dr Claw or M.A.D.), his thoughts had often strayed back to the general's daughter. He hoped she'd been watching the show; he'd gone all-out in the games of capture the flag, find the pirate leg, and fetch the egg, not only for his own satisfaction or his employer's, but in hopes of demonstrating his many talents to the new girl of his dreams.

And such dreams! Why, it had been _ages_ since he'd had such...er..._graphic_ nocturnal visitations on an almost nightly basis. Studying the photo in his hand again, he thought of the day he'd received it two weeks ago. An urgent email had asked him to come to General Sir's house, which was highly unusual; normally he received his assignments from Colonel Nosehair right there at W.O.M.P. HQ. Thinking it was some top-secret mission so sensitive the General was even keeping it from Nosehair, Gadget had shown up in disguise, and when the door opened, he muttered the last code phrase he could recall having been given: "The dwarf flies at midnight."

Jeanette had stared, and then tried to stifle a giggle. "Gadget, what are you _doing?"_

Startled, Gadget lowered the dark glasses with attached bushy mustache. "How'd you know it was me?"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door fast behind him. "Didn't you read my email?"

"Your email?" Confused, he began searching for his G-pad, producing instead the Gadget Gopher Trap, the Gadget Mallet, and the Gadget Romantic Bouquet. The last item caused Jeanette's eyes to light up, so he gallantly handed the ribbon-wrapped cluster of dahlias and daisies to her. "A-heh. Well, ah, I received _an_ email telling me to come to General Sir's residence, but—"

She shut him up with another of those astounding kisses, right on his lips. He thought he was going to melt into the carpet and mess up General Sir's lovely foyer on the spot. When the stars cleared from his vision, he saw her smiling at him. "...What was I saying?" he mumbled, grinning back.

She twirled once, and finally he noticed she was wearing a dress. A very _provocative_ dress, in fact: rust-colored velvet from her possibly corseted bustline (he had to force his eyes down past that) to her dainty pointed shoes, the high sharp heels showing off her trim legs. She pulled down a net veil of a darker hue and batted long eyelashes at him. "I don't vant to be alone," she murmured throatily, and his breath caught.

Recovering speech with great effort, Gadget said, "I...ah...I don't recall getting a dress. I mean a cleavage. I mean an email! Ah. An email mentioning...what is this about, anyway, Jeanette?" He felt utterly lost, but her smile reassured him. He knew he forgot things occasionally, though he'd never admit it to Penny or anyone else, and thankfully they never seemed to notice his mild slip-ups. He suspected sometimes, when he bothered to think about it, that perhaps when he'd been upgraded to Gadget 5.0, they'd removed a little too much of his...his..._wowsers. That is some dress!_

She giggled again, and smoothed down the sides of the velvet gown, making it cling to her in all the right ways. "I asked you if you'd care to be my official escort again tonight, Lieutenant Gadget." Her smile widened even as her eyelids lowered seductively. "To a _film noir_ party. I thought that might be right up your alley."

"Alley, check," he muttered, suddenly blushing again as he realized what that dress was doing to him. _Well, technically, it's not the __**dress**__; it's __**Jeanette**__ in that dress, with it showing off every...lovely...curve..._ Realizing too late that this line of thought was _not_ helping him maintain any sort of proper decorum, he gulped and shoved his hands in his pockets, discreetly holding his coat slightly out in hopes that she wouldn't notice the very noticeable effect she was producing. "Ahem! A...a party? Certainly! I love parties!"

"But it's a theme party," she said, pouting lightly. "And you're not really dressed for it." She came closer, discomfiting him even more. "I mean, the hat is good, but I was hoping you'd dress a little more in period style. You know, 'The Maltese Falcon,' Bogart, mystery..." She ran a finger down the long edge of his nose. "Intrigue..."

"Oh! I can do intrigue," he assured her, backing away a step before she discovered something even more prominent than his nose. "I haven't worn this in a while, but...Go Go Gadget Trenchcoat!" He thrust his arms out to the sides, and from an inside pocket of his plain gray coat, his old trenchcoat sprang and unfolded, settling over his back even as he pulled his shirtcuffs through the arms of it. His extra hands popped from his hat, helping him quickly button all the buttons and buckle the belt. He adjusted his fedora a little downward over his brow, and stood up straight for her approval. "How's that?"

Jeanette grinned and clapped her hands. _"Magnifique!"_ She cocked her head to one side, patting the veil over her done-up hair. "Ooh. I do like a man with resources."

"Oh...well, I should tell you, Jeanette, as an agent of W.O.M.P., I don't really make all that much..."

The sparkle in her eye made him gulp. "Did I say anything about money, Lieutenant Gadget?"

The evening had been wonderful, a mix of old films and cocktails and quite a lot of dancing. Jeanette loved to dance, but more delightfully, she seemed to love to dance with _him._ She'd turned down every other offer (and there'd been a few) at the party, and kept up with Gadget for the tango, the waltz, and his own ten-toe shuffle specialty. By the end of the night, he was breathless from more than just the exertion of the dancing. She'd even blessed him with one more kiss when they said goodnight at her door...and then slipped a plain brown manila envelope into his coat, with the whispered order that he should wait until he was alone to open it. Inside was the photograph which he now gazed at in a mix of wonder and arousal.

_It isn't as though her charms are purely physical,_ he reminded himself sternly. _You had the hots for Lana Lamour too! _He'd been smitten back then, he admitted, but nothing had come of his infatuation. Why, Lana never even kissed him! And although he'd had his fair share of female admirers through the years – it came with the job, naturally: all the glamour of being a fearless agent of good – he'd never pursued anyone. He'd been too busy, with missions and raising Penny as best he could and constantly having to repair one or another of his gadgets. He knew the simple fact of his cyborg nature was too intimidating for most women, and so he rarely bothered to so much as wink at them, compassion for their natural awe at his enhanced characteristics keeping him apart. At least, he'd always assumed it was awe. Considering it now, he supposed it was possible that they may have sadly thought since so much of him had been rebuilt, he might not be able to...ahem...experience that sort of satisfaction anymore, and avoided him out of pity. He shook his head. Well, _that_ was _certainly_ not the case! He felt things, very much indeed. Especially for Jeanette Sir.

_She laughs with me,_ he thought, smiling. It pained him to admit that there'd been a time or two, since he'd been reconstructed with all these mechanical enhancements, when he'd wondered if the laughter he'd heard was directed _at_ him. _Prejudiced anti-cybernetic bigots, no doubt,_ he thought with a scowl. But Jeanette... His gaze softened. _She laughs __**with**__ me. Everything I do seems to delight her! And she's funny, and she's smart, and she thinks I'm all that..._ He stared at the photo, and a growing heat in his loins made him shift uncomfortably on the padded table. _During 'The Postman Always Rings Twice,' she..._ He could barely think of what that amazing young lady had done with those delicate fingers in the darkened theatre, even though he never took off a stitch of clothing. When a sudden stroke of her hand caused him to end up with popcorn butter all over his coat, she'd merely giggled, and waited for him when he hurried to the men's room to try and wash it off. _Among other things that needed to be urgently taken care of. _

He could feel his cheeks burning, but that was nothing to what these thoughts were doing to him in other regions. With a groan, he looked around the lab. The Gadgetinis were in the lounge upstairs, doing what they insisted was "hand-to-eye coordination exercises," though it always looked like videogames to him. Colonel Nosehair was off serving the last of his two weeks' service at the South Pole, having (barely) managed to wheedle the lesser punishment from General Sir after his disobeying orders during the Disarmament Ball escapade. Gadget wasn't sure where the General might be, but he was rarely in the building anyway; and Penny was still at school. Nobody was around. He had the lab, and probably most of the building, all to himself.

_What could it hurt? Think of her lips...think of her hands..._ Unable to stop the delicious memories while he continued to gaze at the photograph, Gadget slowly unbuttoned his coat, then his trousers. He closed his eyes, Jeanette's smile fixed in his mind, and began to stroke, to tease himself. "So lovely," he murmured, imagining her fingertips walking up his thighs as she'd done during the final movie. "Oh, Jeanette..." He'd wanted so badly then to take her in his arms, to lock her lips with his, to have her straddling him, to slip that confining velvet dress off her and feel her breasts against his bare chest...things he hadn't done in, well, he honestly couldn't remember _when_... "My sweet girl, _yes..."_

He was mid-stroke, his fevered brain picturing her smile as she teased him, tormented him with her touch – when a sharp rapping on the lab door made him flail and crash backward right off the table. "Hello? Is someone in there?" sang out a voice. A very familiar voice.

"Agh!" Gadget choked, extended limbs waving, smacking his own face accidentally in his haste to button himself up. The knock sounded again, and he yelled, "Just a minute!" The door swung open _(wowsers! Why didn't I __**lock**__ it?!)_ and the object of his desire stood there with a quizzical expression as he frantically yanked the lapels of his coat over himself. He managed a strained smile. "H-hello! Jeanette!" Then it hit him; this was W.O.M.P. headquarters. "Er...what are you doing here?"

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a lopsided smile. "Well, nice to see you too."

"Hah?" For one terrified instant, he thought she'd noticed the state he was in. "It...it is?"

"Sure. I came here to see if Daddy had dropped by, but it's certainly nice to see my favorite mechanical man." She leaned against the doorjamb, her eyes traveling once down and up his skinny frame. "So what's this room for?"

_She didn't notice. Whew. Act casual, act casual..._ Striking a completely nonchalant pose, he leaned back against one of the large tool cabinets near the exam table. "Ah. Well, I'm glad you asked! You see, Jeanette, this lab is the most technologically _advaaaa—"_ The cabinet, he'd forgotten, was on wheels. It slowly rolled, and he nearly fell on his ass, saving himself at the last second by shooting out one arm and grasping tight to the surgical light fixture over the table. "Ah, the most technologically advanced _cybernetiiiiick!"_ The lamp creaked and suddenly gave way, bringing down a chunk of ceiling plaster with it directly on his head. He swayed, dazed momentarily. When he shook his head to clear the dust from his vision, parts of the light fixture came in contact with the extension arm for one of his hat-hands which had sprung out on impact. Specifically, the still-live wire from the lamp was what made contact, and he jumped as current zipped through him, shorting out the lamp, _and_ his legs, which promptly shot him up to the ceiling to bang his head yet again, _and_ the electricity in this wing of the building, plunging them into darkness.

After a second, the emergency lighting clicked on, bathing them in a dim red glow. Gadget sighed, sending up a billow of plaster dust. "It's a lab," he finished curtly.

She approached cautiously, picking her way over the debris. "Are you all right?"

"Careful," he told her. "There may still be wires on the floor. Better let me come to you." The first step he took found the ripped cable from the lamp; he shook his foot, trying to dislodge it, hopping backward. His back found the still-gently-rolling tool cabinet. "Ow!" It bounced at the impact, hit the exam table (which was bolted to the floor), and rebounded onto him, drawers flying open. "Ow – ow—eech – owch –owww..." When the last of the wrenches and drill bits finished clattering on the floor after smacking the back of his head, Gadget reached up to see how bad the damage was, and winced at the myriad of sore spots. "That wasn't exactly the kind of tune-up I had in mind," he muttered.

Jeanette giggled, making him shoot a pained look at her, but she came close and gently stroked his long cheek with her soft hand. "Always defusing the situation with a joke," she murmured, and then she kissed him. "I like that about you."

He melted. "I do too," he mumbled, then realized how egotistical that sounded. "Ah, that is, I mean...I like your sense of humor too!"

She grinned. "You're _cute_ when you're clumsy."

"Clumsy?" he repeated, but then her lips met his again, and he didn't give a _damn_ how incorrectly she perceived a simple household accident which _anyone_ could have suffered due to malfunctioning rolling carts. When she slowly pulled back, the imprint of her lipstick sweet on his tongue, he blinked at her. "I'm...I'm cute?"

She just grinned at him, looking positively devilish in the reddish light. It brought out her complexion nicely, he thought, making her appear even more exotic. He untangled himself from the remains of the lamp, and she looked around curiously. "So what happens here? Secret weapons development?"

"Oh, no! W.O.M.P. is dedicated to world peace! We don't build weapons, we try to stop people like Dr Claw from using _theirs!"_ He straightened himself up, not without pride. "This is where I have my gadgets worked on, or new ones installed."

She looked over her shoulder at him, a thoughtful expression wrinkling her adorable button nose. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you, Gadget, concerning that..."

"Yes?"

"How much of you is machine...and how much is still man?"

He blushed, suddenly noticing her photograph was laying on a counter next to the exam table. _What would she think if she knew you'd been staring at her and..._ Embarrassed, he subtly sidestepped, standing in front of it so she wouldn't see it. Even though she'd given it to him, he still felt like a voyeur even glimpsing it at the moment. "Well, ah, you see, I have had extensive upgrades to nearly _all_ of my body. Lots more gadgets, and they almost never malfunction anymore! Not that they did all that often to begin with, heh heh, really, it was merely a glitch in the voice activation—"

"I wasn't asking for a sales pitch," Jeanette said, slowly coming closer; he was mesmerized by those delicate feet in summer sandals, each foot daintily picking past the clods of ceiling or spilled lug nuts on the floor, stepping carefully in the low light. "Gadget, I want to know...if you feel things like ordinary men do." She stopped a few inches from him, those direct green eyes boring into his own dark ones.

"Er, well...I assume falling wrenches _hurt _most people, right?" He sheepishly adjusted his hat. "It's been a while since I had most of my nervous system replaced."

She seemed a little taken aback, but then resumed her questioning. "Yes, that would hurt. And I'm glad you seem to be okay. But Gadget...what I mean is..." She took a deep breath. "Do you...can you...feel anything for me?"

"Do I..." Stunned, he stared at her a second. Her eyes looked sad. "Oh, Jeanette..."

"It's...it's okay. It really is." She swallowed hard, then offered him a smile. "Thank you for the dates, and the dances and everything, Gadget. It's been a lot of fun."

"You certainly have," he said at once. "I mean, I certainly was. Ah, that is – _yes,_ yes! I've enjoyed every second I've spent with you, of course!" She kept looking sad. _Why is she sad? What did I say wrong? _

"Thanks," she said. "So have I. You know, I...I lied earlier..."

Astonished, he gulped. "You...you mean...you _didn't_ like it when I tossed you over the balcony and jumped up to catch you?"

She stared at him, then shook her head. "No! That was fun. I mean...I lied when I said I dropped by to see my father. I knew he wouldn't be around. I was hoping...I was hoping to find you. To see if maybe you..."

He waited, anxious, but she trailed off. "If I?"

She sighed. "Look, never mind. It's okay. Daddy explained to me that you've had so much of you replaced with gadgets that you probably don't even remember what you were like as a man. I shouldn't have got my hopes up. That wasn't fair to either of us."

Shocked at her words, comprehension sweeping through him for once, Gadget felt his heart thud somewhere down below his reinforced-titanium ribcage. "I...of _course_ I..." His whole face drooped. "You...you think that just because I have more cybernetics in me than I do flesh and blood anymore that I wouldn't want to grab you and kiss you silly every time I see you? That I don't spend every waking moment and most of the asleep ones, too, dreaming about you?" Growing agitated, he gestured at the counter behind him, the sweep of his coatsleeve catching the photograph. "That I wasn't in here five minutes ago, pretending you were touching me like you did in the movie theatre, while staring at your picture?" He paused, registering her startled look. "Oops. Forget I said that last one."

Jeanette caught the photo before it drifted to the floor. She looked wonderingly from it to Gadget; he couldn't meet her gaze, another blush reddening his cheeks. "You were...you actually..." A slow smile turned up her lips, and suddenly she broke into peals of laughter. "Is _that_ what that crash I heard was?"

"You...you kind of startled me," he mumbled, still unable to look at her.

She bit her lip, a smile taking over gradually. "You are...the most charmingly silly man I've ever met."

His response was direct from his heart, no matter that gears whirred and clicked in it alongside the original biological pumps. "And you are the loveliest, sweetest, smartest, most delightful woman I've ever met...and I hope you'll make me silly for a long time." He paused, trying to figure out what he'd just said. "Wait. I mean, you make me charmed. Ah, no; that is to say, you make me man all over. No, that's still not right..." He frowned, but she giggled, taking his hand in hers. He could feel her fingers stroking the sensor-laden glove, and it rendered him tongue-tied. "Jeanette, will you silly me?" He gulped. "Or is it way too soon to ask that?"

"Oh, Lieutenant Gadget," she murmured, gently pulling him to her, "I intend to silly all _over_ you, and we'll see what happens after that."

And then he was kissing her, his arms around that delicious waist, and they backed into the lab table, and then somehow he was untying the sash of her pert little pink dress while she practically ripped his tie off, and next thing Gadget knew, she had opened his shirt and stopped. Panting, he cast a bewildered look down, and froze when he saw her silently studying his chest. _Oh no._

Close up, his skin wouldn't fool anyone. The scientists had tried, but eventually it was decided that an artificial compound would be easier, given all the compartments and panels built into what was left of his original body. Artificial skin covered all those parts now, from his neck down. Jeanette slowly ran a fingertip along the edge of the panel where his heart monitor was stored, next to the autodefensive security system (in the form of a coiled spring and a wicked strong boxing glove) and his extra aqualung. He barely noticed all those tiny lines crisscrossing his torso anymore; when showering, he simply scrubbed right over them. However, he realized, Jeanette might find them...odd. "Ah...I hope you're not allergic to latex," he said.

She placed her palm flat in the center of his chest. "You feel warm," she said.

"My body temperature is kept at a constant ninety-nine point two degrees," he explained, nervous for no reason he could articulate. _After all, it doesn't matter how many gadgets I have; women just like the uniform, right?_ He'd never considered before that any woman might look at him _without_ the uniform and be...put off. Worried at her continued quiet and serious expression, he suggested, "I'm...I'm great for cold nights..."

Jeanette continued to slowly touch his chest, his stomach, and he couldn't help but experience a rush of warmth, but she wasn't exactly jumping on him as he'd hoped. Instead, she asked, "Did it hurt?"

"Snuggling in a sleeping bag on a cold night? Why would that hurt?"

She frowned lightly. "What they did to you."

"Of course not! I _needed_ an upgrade. One must keep up with current technology, you know, in order to be the best crime-fighter possible." He shrugged, feeling helplessly unsure how to answer her. "Besides, I was so doped up on pain meds I didn't even know who I was for _months."_

"That's awful," Jeanette said, her eyes gleaming softly when she turned them back to his face.

"It sure was! Why, it took them three full weeks to convince me I wasn't actually Sparky the Wonder Gerbil."

"Gadget..." She hesitated, then went on with a look in her eye he didn't fully understand. "I don't know what's going to happen next with us, you and me, I mean; but I'm kind of hoping..."

He brightened. "Oh! I bet I do!" At her quizzical look, he suffered a pang of self-doubt, and went on a little less confidently: "Er...we're going to have passionate, amazing sex, and maybe go out for an ice cream afterward?"

She stared at him. He gave her his most earnest smile, and hastily amended, "Or pizza. Pizza's good too. Whatever you want!"

She shook her head slowly, and he thought he still hadn't guessed her tastes correctly, but then a smile spread over her face again. "We're just going to have to play this by ear, aren't we?"

"Music practice?" He grinned. "Have I told you I'm something of an expert cello player?"

"What _else_ can you play?" she asked, tracing those astoundingly arousing fingertips down his body, hooking them under the waist of his trousers. Artificial skin or no, he felt _every_ languid brush of her hand. He gulped; well, no use hiding what effect her touch was having on him _now..._

He reached for the zipper to her dress. "Would you believe...the bagpipes?"

His breathing rate increased even more when the dress slid to the floor and she stepped out of it, revealing smooth skin unbroken by underwear of any sort. She giggled at his groan. "You do sound a little bagpipish there."

"Uh huh," was the most articulate thing he could manage. She pushed his shoulders back; he hastily scrambled onto the table, eyes wide when she followed, climbing up and crouching over his thighs. He just lay there, half-dazed, while a hand popped from his hat and quickly began unbuttoning and unzipping where it was most needed. "Oh, Jeanette..." he sighed.

She glanced down at the strain in his shorts, and giggled again. He was utterly in love with that sound, even if it was directed _at_ him. "Need a hand there?"

"Nope. Got one." He barely had to think about it to urge the Gadget hand to yank down his shorts. Jeanette gasped. Gadget grinned proudly. "I've been wanting to try out this new gadget for quite some time."

"New...gadget?" She regarded him with wide eyes. "But if that's not... How will you feel...?"

"Amazing," he assured her, and gently lifted her by the hips. She was about to nervously object, but he murmured, "Go Go Gadget Neck."

Jeanette sang as beautifully as he'd imagined, her head thrown back and cries of joy bursting from her lips as he tasted her, then licked in earnest. Her legs stiffened, her hands clasped his upon her waist and held tight while he continued to nuzzle and explore. With her every yelp and gasp and shudder, he felt a corresponding tug between his legs, eager to join with her; but Gadget had always believed in chivalry. _In this case, ladies first!_ She tasted fresh and pleasant, and he lapped happily, steadily. His strong hands kept her poised just above him, keeping her there even when she finally screamed and almost collapsed. Breathless himself, he pulled back and waited for her eyelids to flutter open. "Jeanette?"

"Ohhh," she sighed; the eyes she gradually turned down to him were like emeralds from a treasure chest. _No; prettier. No emerald could look at me that way. _

"My turn?" he asked hopefully. She blinked, looked from his fully erect gadget to his eager face, and slowly nodded. "Oh good," he sighed. "I was beginning to worry I might set off the fire alarm again. Wowsers, was _that_ embarrassing last time."

Before she could ask why this might set off the alarms, he gingerly lowered her. She gasped, then gave a low, delightful moan. She shivered all over once; Gadget groaned at the feel of such slippery warmth coating every sleek inch of the appendage he'd special-requested during the last upgrade. Jeanette placed her hands on his chest; her slim weight was nothing to his metal, and he congratulated himself for putting _her_ on top. "Gadget?" she whispered. Her arms trembled.

"Yes, my lovely one?"

"I don't...I don't think I have the energy to move," she confessed, with a breathy laugh.

"No problem," he panted in reply. "Go Go Gadget Shaft of Love!"

She squeaked in surprise as his most specialized gadget began thrusting. Gadget's eyes closed, and he gasped as well. _Wowsers!_ Even the Gadget hand could never equal _this_ sensation! "Oh," cried Jeanette; "Oh, oh, _ohhh!"_

"Oh wowsers," he groaned, abandoning all thought in the swirl of ecstasy. His hands slid around to caress her perfectly curved bottom. He extended his neck a bit in order to suckle one pert little nipple that simply _needed_ his tongue, while his Gadget hand tickled and teased the other. At his next thrust, Jeanette cried out, her hands curling on his chest. Dimly, he wondered if he ought to caution her about that before she set off his –

The Gadget Lounge Chair shot out of his stomach sideways, unfolding and expanding and thwacking down a few feet away, crushing a set of glass beakers and pipettes for some sort of viscosity test the lab boys had been running on his internal lubricant oil. Relieved it hadn't hit Jeanette, Gadget muttered, "You might wanna be careful what you sink those beautifully manicured nails into..."

"Oh!" Aware suddenly she wasn't clutching handfuls of anything but his pliable skin, Jeanette let go. "Oh my gosh, Gadget, I'm so sor—_eeeeee!"_ He didn't stop thrusting, and her head flung back sharply. _"Oh my god!"_ And she promptly slapped both hands down hard on his shoulders. His cappuccino-maker slung out; the steam as it brewed a strong latté singed his left ear a bit, but he was in too much pleasure to pay it much heed.

"Oh wowsers _yes!" _he gasped, and the Shaft of Love responded to his need, speeding up, making the most heavenly whirring sound, sending astonishing vibrations throughout his whole body – and hers too, judging by the squeals and cries Jeanette was uttering. "Oh _Jeanette!"_

Forgetting her earlier weakness, she bounced up and down on him, shrieking each time her bottom slammed against his pelvis. This was _so_ much better than he ever dreamed – he couldn't hold back anymore – warning alarms went off in his brain – oh no, oh wowsers, he was right on the verge of – _"Wooowwserrrrss!" _he howled, as every single cybernetic feature he possessed went completely haywire.

Jeanette screamed as well, though later, when he studied the playback of his internal sensor log, he scratched his head in puzzlement at the fear his Gadget Emotion Reader detected in her voice. He had no idea what could have scared her; after all, the Gadget Security Mechanism missed her by _that_ much; the hot latté ended up splattering _his_ neck, not hers; and the fireworks only took out _two_ structural support beams instead of the three when he'd tested his most intimate gadget by himself.

They lay gasping for some minutes, Jeanette sprawled atop him, his arms and legs in loose coils all over the floor. Her arms remained convulsively wrapped around him, and she stared wide-eyed at the various mechanisms hanging out of his chest and his hat. The accordion dangled so listlessly that it wheezed when he took a deep breath. "Okay," Jeanette finally whispered, "that was...unexpected."

"Sorry," Gadget mumbled, his heart still thudding louder than his gears. "You...you didn't realize I could do a killer decaf latté?"

"No, you made me one of them at the movie party," she reminded him, slowly relaxing her deathgrip from around his ribs. "I, uh, wasn't expecting the fire hose." She raised herself weakly a moment, and they both glanced down at the growing puddle of slippery, clear amber oil coating them both...and the table...and the floor under the table.

"Oh. Right." He winced, feeling like a cad. "I, heh heh, guess I should've warned you. When I tested that the first time, that little eye on the smoke detector got coated, and, well..."

She met his sheepish look with a firm smile. "I didn't say I didn't _like_ it. I just wasn't expecting it!" She giggled again. "You may have to hold me tighter next time. If I hadn't grabbed you, I'd have shot off this table!"

"I'll hold on as tight as you want me to," he promised, reeling in his arms and wrapping them around her to make his point. Then her words sank in fully, and his eyes widened. "Next time?"

"Don't you want a next time?"

"Well – I – absolutely!" He beamed at her.

"Or were you planning on moving on to your next girl, stud muffin?"

He blushed. "I don't...I don't have any next girl, Jeanette. In fact, I haven't had _any_ girls around but my niece – not like _that!" _he hurriedly amended. "I mean...there isn't...there isn't _anyone_ else, and I was worried that maybe...after that...you wouldn't want to be with me again." He could barely speak the last part, realizing how ridiculous it was for all his gadgets to be hanging out all over. _Why, she'll think you're an idiot. Look there, you have the miniature warhead __**and**__ the flamethrower both pointing at the lab's diagnostic screen! Anyone can see that's simply overkill; either __**one**__ of them would suffice to obliterate it. _Worried, he dared a glance into her lovely green eyes.

To his surprise and relief, she wasn't glaring, or sneering, or anything of the sort. She was smiling at him! "Are you kidding?" she asked. "That was...that was..." She took a deep breath, then simply shook her head and pressed her lips to his. Overjoyed, Gadget kissed her deeply, and his Gadget hand emerged from his hat to stroke softly through her thick hair.

They stayed that way for some time, kissing, gently stroking each other's skin. Gadget quietly drew in each of his extensions. Jeanette didn't seem to mind at all when she had to shift aside a bit for him to lock down the boxing-glove so it wouldn't spring out again when she rubbed her breast against him. Finally, however, she sighed and carefully raised off of him. "I should get home," she said.

"Why?" A sudden worry hit him. "Does...does General Sir know you came here?"

She gave him a playful grin. "Well, I'm certainly not going to tell him you made me come, silly!"

He frowned, bemused. "If that was you coming silly, then how will I know when you come _seriously?"_

She laughed, and was about to reply, when she let out a wail that brought Gadget springing to his feet and ready to defend her...before he remembered he hadn't taken his pants all the way off, and tripped. "Ow," he muttered, levering himself off the floor with one hand while the other rubbed his chin. "What...what's wrong, Jeanette?"

"My dress!"

Gadget looked at the once-pretty summer frock, now soaked with his coital explosion. Which reminded him: _better refill the oil reservoirs. _Jeanette scrunched up her face, and let the fabric plop back into the puddle. "Great. Is that _ever_ going to wash out?" She turned to give Gadget a stern look. "Now how is it going to look if I walk out of here like _this?_ And where can _I_ wash up?"

"Oops," he mumbled. "Ah, there's a shower in the corner there. It's for chemical spills, but it should work fine to, uh, to clean you up..." It had served well enough to wash various substances off of _him_ before, anyway: fire-extinguishing foam, caramel, cleaning fluid...

Jeanette picked her way to the shower stall, throwing tart words over her shoulder at him. "Okay, but you _better_ be able to get that out of my dress, Lieutenant, or else you're buying me a new one!"

"I'll clean it right up in a jiffy!" he promised, yanking up his pants before realizing they too were soaked through and rather uncomfortable, and finally deciding to remove them. He hopped on one foot, trying to pull the other shoe through the trouser leg, the ruined dress in one hand. "Go Go Gadget Drycleaner!" The hot press touched the oil-soaked dress only an instant before the fabric crisped and poofed into ash. "Whoops...ah...must have been flammable polyester?" At the glare Jeanette gave him, he offered, "One new dress, right away! Ah...just as soon as I can get out of these trousers...they seem to have shrunk; I know I was able to get my feet through the legs this morning..."

Jeanette shook her head, watching him a moment longer. "Does this shower have hot water?"

"Uh...no?"

She folded her arms over her breasts and raised an eyebrow at him, waiting. "Oh. Aheh," he mumbled. "Wowsers. This post-coital relationship-talking stuff is really tricky." Hoping to make things up to her, he finally cut through the uncooperative trousers and hurried to the shower. "Go Go Gadget Hot Shower!"

He spent a few tense minutes waiting just outside the narrow stall, his left arm fastened to the sink faucet and pumping water through him, hoping he'd adjusted the temperature correctly for the spray coming out of the Gadget Shower Fixture from his hat. Useful though it was, this gadget sometimes had an uncomfortable effect on his bladder; thankfully that wasn't the case today. He waited, handing Jeanette the soap when she stuck a hand out, but her other hand emerged as well and slipped around the back of his neck. "Get in here," she purred. "I think I need some help washing."

"Of course," he said, stepping in, relieved by her forgiving smile. "Go Go Gadget Bathtime Scrubbies!"

She giggled, and squirmed, and rubbed herself against him in a wholly delightful manner as his arsenal of small hands armed with bath gel and soft scrunchies and even a nail-brush attacked her gently. When he rinsed her off all over and then began scrubbing the oil off himself, she sighed and leaned against the shower wall, letting the hot water course in rivulets over her breasts. The sight mesmerized him. "Gadget?" she said, jerking his attention back to her face.

"Yes?"

"Do you like swimming?"

The question threw him at first, but then he grinned. _"Do_ I! Wait'll you see my spring-loaded cannonball dive!"

"Come over Saturday. I'm throwing a pool party. Daddy'll be there for a bit, but he won't stay the night; he has a meeting to fly to later."

"Oh." His face fell. "Ah...Jeanette...are you sure your father wants you dating me?"

"Why wouldn't he?" She frowned. "You mean because you're—"

"His subordinate," Gadget agreed. "You have to admit, he _did_ seem a little nonplussed when you kissed me in front of him." She stared at him, clearly not having considered this angle, so Gadget went on. "Well, W.O.M.P. has very strict policies about dating among co-workers! Although technically, I guess, since you don't work there, maybe that rule doesn't apply to you... I just mean, you know, I wouldn't want General Sir to think that just because I seduced you with my professional charm and _overwhelming_ good looks, that I would for _one minute_ take your affections for granted."

Jeanette slapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking. Worried, Gadget drew her into his embrace. "Oh, I'm sorry! Don't cry, Jeanette...I'll...I'll man up, and just tell the General that I want to go steady with you, and if he has a problem with the inter-personnel thing, I'll just quit W.O.M.P!"

She hugged him, still trembling, and his eyes filled with tears of sympathy. "There, there...don't worry...I'm sure the General will understand."

She pulled back, and he was puzzled to see a wide smile on her face. "You really are something," she said.

Pleased, he stroked her damp hair out of her face so he could kiss her again. "Do you think you could be happy with a something?"

"Just don't hit me with a folding chair when you climax."

"A-heh," he muttered, turning red.

He dried them both off and found a lab coat hanging in a closet, but it proved to be too long in the sleeves for Jeanette. She eyed his gray overcoat critically. "What about that?"

"My coat?" When she nodded, he shrugged and held it out for her to slip into.

"Mmm," she said, snuggling into it and buttoning it up. The hem came to just below her knees, showing off her calves nicely. She smiled at him. "Smells like you."

"Um." He rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly; he couldn't recall if he'd worn deodorant today. "Is that good or bad?"

She grinned. "Let's just say I am never going to think of machine oil the same way again." She put her shoes back on; thankfully, the puddle hadn't reached them. "See you Saturday, Lieutenant...and you'd better bring me a new dress!"

"I'll be there with bells on," he promised, a harness covered in tiny bells strapping itself over his shoulders for illustration. He saluted her grandly, and she giggled.

"Try putting some _clothes_ on first!"

He quickly wriggled into the lab coat and did the buttons up as he hurried after her, wanting to do the gentlemanly thing and escort her at least to the secret elevator. It dinged and opened just as he caught up to Jeanette. Colonel Nosehair stood stiffly inside, startled when he found the lovely young lady directly in his path. "Oh! Miss Sir! What a lovely surprise!" Nosehair made a formal, sweeping bow, then caught sight of Gadget and scowled. "And what an _unpleasant_ one."

"Hello, Colonel! Back from South Pole duty?" Gadget asked brightly, always glad to see his superior. He enjoyed discovering new ways to aid and assist the brave colonel; helping him always made Gadget feel happily useful.

"No thanks to you," Nosehair muttered, then stepped out of the elevator and gestured for Jeanette to enter. "Please, mademoiselle, allow me to escort you to the surface."

Jeanette smiled. "That won't be necessary, Colonel; I've had plenty of company already today." She blew a kiss over her shoulder to Gadget, who beamed. "Don't forget: Saturday, my house...and bring _all_ your gadgets. There might just be a sleepover afterward." She winked.

"Sleeping bag, pajamas, popcorn," Gadget said, nodding. "I won't forget!"

"A sleepover?" Nosehair wondered aloud. Then he stared at Jeanette's clothing, and his jaw dropped. "Is she wearing _your_ coat?"

Jeanette wiggled her fingers in a cute little wave. The elevator shut and whisked her several floors up to street level. A flabbergasted Nosehair turned to Gadget. "And why are _you_ wearing that lab coat?"

Gadget smiled innocently. "Oh, we were...testing out one of my gadgets." Immensely pleased with himself at this little subterfuge, he saluted and turned to go. "Oh, and by the way, Colonel, you might want to tell the lab boys they ought to replace that light fixture. And those support beams. Oh, and the table. Terribly unsound! Someone could get hurt." _Hah! The Colonel will __**never**__ guess what went on today!_

Whistling happily, he strolled off to see what the Gadgetinis were up to, and to find his spare clothes. He was fairly sure he had some stashed down here, after that incident with the loose thread in his shirt and the Gadget Super Vacuum...

Nosehair's howl reverberated throughout the building. Gadget heard it, and paused for a moment while rummaging through a closet. "Ah, what a great boss I have," he said to himself, "always so _happy_ to see me when he's been away for too long!" And blithely he continued searching for his spare clothes. After all, it wouldn't do to show up at home like this; Penny might think he was switching from fieldwork to labwork, which wasn't at all true...although... _Although I do believe one particular gadget needs a lot more field testing. _He grinned. _Hopefully a __**lot**__ more!_ He looked down, startled. "Whoops...and I just dried off, too! Oh well..." he sighed, and winced, bracing himself. "Go Go Gadget Cold Shower!"


End file.
